Daydream Believer

Sometimes I’m in my office at the high-rise monolith where I work, clickity-clacking away on my keyboard, and I stop to gaze out the window to think “Man, I would so much rather be out on my bike today.”

How luxurious to wake at a reasonable hour, fuel up on coffee and mini-wheats, throw on my gear and hit the road. Maybe a lunch break at the tiny bakery several townships (and 40 miles) over.

The smooth pedal strokes propelling me forward into the world, slicing through time and space.

Floating up hills … effortless.

Fresh air and sunshine. Or fresh air and overcast. Sometimes riding in the rain is delicious in its own right – surrendering yourself to just getting wet and muddy and relishing the moment.

Recounting the wildlife encountered: the herons and emus, deer families and foxes.

Laughter. Friendship. Fun.

It’s true that money can’t buy happiness … but it does buy a bicycle, which is pretty damn close.

this is my mom and her bike. proof my addiction to bicycles is hereditary.